


gray areas and expectation

by werenskibrows



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Panic Attacks, self indulgent use of the queen of 90s country
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 10:57:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16742674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werenskibrows/pseuds/werenskibrows
Summary: “See? There you go,” Dylan says and kisses his forehead, still rubbing his back. “I got you, Z don’t worry.”--or, 5 times zach thought dylan was the one, and 1 time he knew





	gray areas and expectation

**Author's Note:**

> first, if you see your name or the name of someone you know, just...exit. save us both. this isn't true and any coincidences are simply because i am smart and can accurately predict the past. some events are blatantly changed from what actually happened because the real events weren't convenient enough for me. title from 'talk me down' by troye sivan, again, because it just fits.
> 
> set during the summer before their freshman year at michigan to the beginning of dylan's first year with the red wings. i feel like this lacks continuity and i'm sorry but also i started writing this almost a year ago and decided randomly to finish it today so...that's why. this is a completely different vibe from my other d/z work because my own headcannons have changed since i started writing this. this is unbeta'd so errors are mine and pls let me know if there are any.
> 
> lastly - to my dear mpeezy, thank you for being on this torturous ship with me and always being my cheerleader.

**I.**

Zach had begged his parents for keys to the cabin. It was their last weekend before college started and they just wanted to relax. Zach had worked his ass off to be able to enroll at Michigan a year early, and he recently was feeling extra nervous about it. Dylan was the best at keeping him calm, so he figured this would be a win-win.

They’d been walking on eggshells lately about them, and Zach wasn’t sure what this weekend was going to be like. Sure, Zach had all of his eggs in a bright blue basket labeled DYLAN LARKIN, but he knew Dylan wasn’t in the same place. When he had told Dylan that he got the keys to the lake cabin for the weekend and Dylan wasn’t as excited as he was, he thought maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

When Dylan picked him up that Thursday afternoon, Zach was already nervous. He liked Dylan. He wanted to spend all of his time with Dylan. He wanted to kiss Dylan. He wanted to touch Dylan. He wanted Dylan in more ways than he knew how to communicate. But he didn’t know if Dylan liked him, wanted to kiss him, or even wanted to actually spend the weekend with him in the way that Zach was hoping for.

“Hey, bro,” Zach said when he got in the front seat of Dylan’s car. “Are you ready for the best weekend of your life?”

Dylan just laughed and put the car in drive after Zach was buckled. _Great, so 5 seconds in and things are already weird_ , Zach found himself thinking as he watched his neighborhood pass by in the window. He knew it was probably all in his head, but he couldn’t help it.

The drive to the lake was long, quiet, and Zach spent most of the time wanting to reach out and hold Dylan’s hand, or rest is hand on Dylan’s thigh. He had almost gathered all of the courage to do it when Dylan broke him out of his trance. “Do you want to play DJ the rest of the way? You’re thinking too loud for me to concentrate on the road,” Dylan asked, offering the aux cord and his phone, Pandora open and ready for him.

Zach took his phone and looked at him closely. “Are you sure about this?” he said with a smirk. Dylan’s favorite chirping topic was his taste in music, because he’s a self proclaimed boyband aficionado and Dylan was decidedly not.

Dylan smiled at him, that 6 million dollar smile of his, and put his hand on Zach’s thigh and squeezed gently. “This is your world, Z, I’m just living in it. Have at ‘er.”

Zach’s brain was sort of short-circuiting as he plugged the cord into his phone and went to searching for the perfect station. “I’m gonna make sure you regret this so hard,” Zach says laughing. He can’t help but notice that Dylan’s hand is still resting on his thigh, gently tapping to the beat of whatever Coldplay song he had playing.

 _Maybe this weekend will be alright_ , Zach thinks to himself as he rests his hand on top of Dylan’s. _Maybe it was all in my head_. He feels Dylan squeeze his thigh gently as he pushes play on his playlist of choice.

He hears the opening strums of guitar turn into quintessential 90s country music and watches as the realization hits Dylan, watches Dylan throw his head back and laugh at the same time the lyrics start. 

_Any man of mine better be proud of me, even when I’m ugly, still better love me_

Zach feels Dylan pull his hand away from his thigh and he’s upset at first, until he notices Dylan with both hands on the wheel tapping along to the beat. He laughs quietly to himself, until the chorus comes and Dylan is right there singing with Shania - _Any man of mine better walk the line, better show me a teasin' squeezin' pleasin' kinda time_.

Yeah, he’s pretty gone for Dylan. Even if Dylan doesn’t have all of his eggs in a basket labeled ZACH WERENSKI, Zach thinks that for him, it’ll always be Dylan. Always.

**II.**

The rest of the drive goes by in a blur, changing between Country Women of the 90s, Poppunk hits of the 00s, and a Try Not To Sing challenge with Disney songs. Dylan keeps his hand on Zach’s thigh, or laced with his fingers. Zach is chill. He’s got his boy. He doesn’t know why he felt so anxious, but _par for the course with me I suppose_ , he thinks to himself.

“Okay, do we need to get gas for the jet skis or anything?” Dylan says as they pass a Marathon Gas. Zach was not paying attention, was thinking about how it would feel to wake up next to Dylan tomorrow morning.

“Sorry, what did you say? My mind was somewhere else.”

Dylan chuckled, his pointer finger rubbing across Zach’s knuckles softly. “Yeah I’ve noticed. I was just wondering if everything is gassed up or if you’re going to want me to head into town and fill a couple cans when I get groceries and stuff.”

Zach hummed along to the song playing - _This Kiss by Faith Hill maybe?_ he thought to himself - and looked at Dylan out of the corner of his eye. “Brad was the last one up here so it would probably be smart to get some. Can you pick up some orange juice when you go, too?”

Dylan pulls his hand out of Zach’s grip quick and harsh, almost as if he was mad at him. “Do you want to have this fight already?” He said, and Zach could tell he was trying not to laugh. How could he have forgotten the Great Orange Juice Debate of 2012? “We haven’t even gotten to the cabin and had a chance to fool around yet and the mood is already ruined!”

Zach felt his ears go hot and he did that weird cough-laugh-sputter thing he does. “I will not back down. I will not give up!” He said, reaching for Dylan’s hand again, missing the warmth that came with it.

Dylan pretends to try and pull his hand away, actually laughing now. “NO! No, no, no! I can handle the stuffing thing, but as I have always said ‘I can not be with someone who doesn’t like pulp in their orange juice!’ This is a deal breaker!”

At this point Zach was struggling to breathe through the laughing. “No, I promise we can make it through this! We can drink grape juice instead!”

“I still can’t believe you would do me like this. Out of all the weird things to like, I can’t believe it’s pulp free orange juice,” Dylan says when he finally stops laughing. His hand finds its way back to Zach’s thigh. If it’s a little higher than before, more of a full grip on it, Zach’s not going to say anything. He knows he has thick thighs, he thinks Dylan likes them, and he’s not going to complain about it.

\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//

When they get to the cabin, Zach kind of sucks in a breath, grabbing both his and Dylan’s bags and dropping them on the bed in his room only, not putting Dylan’s in the guest room. He definitely means something by doing it but he hopes Dylan doesn’t think he means anything by it. He can’t shake the nerves, even though he thinks they’re on the same page about Them right now.

“Okay, I’ll be back!” Dylan yells into the room Zach is stood motionless in. Dylan has a couple gas cans and 2 reusable Red Wings bags for the groceries. _Dylan is nothing if not a Red Wings fanboy and a recycling machine_ , Zach thinks to himself.

His feet move on their own towards Dylan, and before he knows what he’s doing, he finds himself face to face with Dylan. He puts his hips on Dylan’s hips gently, testing the waters. He feels Dylan move his right him into his hand and sigh softly.

“Is this okay?” He asks quietly, focusing on the freckles sprinkled on Dylan’s cheeks as his eyelashes flutter when he blinks.

Dylan doesn’t say a word, just closes the gap between them and presses a chaste kiss to Zach’s lips. He relaxes against Dylan and kisses back, not wanting it to end. His hands find their way to the sides of Dylan’s face of their own volition. He pulls back and smiles at Dylan, searching in his eyes for words that he knows Dylan will never say.

Dylan presses another kiss to the side of his lips, says “see you in a while, hot stuff!” and heads out the door, leaving Zach there alone in his thoughts. He goes and sits on the couch and pulls out his phone, texting Auston bro am i in over my head???? and opens Instagram, scrolling through aimlessly to get himself out of his thoughts. He sees **larkindylan** followed **shaniatwain** , and can’t help the giggles that come out.

He must fall asleep for a while, because all of a sudden he’s woken up by the doorknob turning and Dylan announcing his presence. He hears the muffled sound of none other than Shania Twain coming from Dylan’s phone in his back pocket, hears Dylan scream-singing “honey I’m home and I’ve had a hard day, pour me a cold one and oh by the wayyyyy — don’t pour me a cold one of this nasty PULP! FREE! orange juice! that I just bought for you. You’re lucky you’re cute!” he says, kisses Zach on the cheek quickly, and heads into the kitchen to drop the bags on the counter.

Dylan tries to walk past Zach, presumably to grab the gas containers and take them down to the dock, but Zach catches him. “You think I’m cute?” he asks, wrapping his arms around Dylan and smiling his best flirty smile.

Dylan wraps his arms around Zach’s shoulders, kissing him once, and says, “nah, your face is whatever. I’m only in this for your thighs,” winks, and kisses him again. “I’ve heard that thick thighs save lives, so I’m just hoping you’re my savior,” he says, reaching down to rub at Zach’s thighs for emphasis.

“You are the worst person I have ever known,” Zach says as he kisses a line up Dylan’s jaw, relishing in the contact. He pushes Dylan towards the couch until he gets the idea and sits down, Zach straddling him as Dylan’s hands come up and rest on his thighs. They both know he’s lying, because Zach is absolutely gone for Dylan.

He knows he’s young, not even 18 yet, but he still thinks that Dylan is it for him, that it’ll never get better than this.

 

**III.**

Zach gets his first point, an assist on Travis’s goal, in an exhibition loss against Ferris State. Dylan gets his first goal in a Michigan sweater against Auston and the NTDPU18 in another exhibition game two days later. Dylan is full of energy after the game, and if Zach ends up on his knees in the shower back at their dorm that night, well, he’s just congratulating his roomie.

They’ve settled into a routine and Zach quite enjoys it. They wake up, usually with Dylan plastered against Zach’s back, do their morning routines - which usually just involves cuddling too long, a brief head massage for Dylan, some hygiene, a quick kiss on Zach’s cheek, and then they’re out the door -, try and stay awake through morning class, meet up for lunch with the boys, try and stay awake through afternoon class, practice, come home, watch Friends, wash, rinse, repeat. Zach wears his Red Wings shirt to bed some nights, and it’s not a thing, okay, but he swears he feels Dylan hold him a little closer the nights that he does.

\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//

_On move in day, Dylan had left a blue gift bag with yellow wrapping paper sitting on Zach’s bed. Zach had come home late that night because his family was in town and his uncle didn’t know how to stop talking, and he figured it was a joke when he saw it. He left it be, stripped down to his boxers, and got in bed behind Dylan._

_The next morning when Dylan woke him up with a kiss and said “did you like your gift?” Zach had forgotten all about it. He smiled, still half asleep, and said, “I wanted to open it with you. What is it? You’re such a weirdo.”_

_Dylan pushed a stray strand of hair away from Zach’s eyes, kissed his nose and said, “yeah, but you love it. Now open your gift!”_

_Zach rolled out of bed against his own wishes and grabbed the bag from his bed and went back to Dylan’s bed, sitting where his legs curved into his torso. “If this is anything other than pulp free orange juice, I’m going to feel like I got the short end of the stick.”_

_Dylan swatted at his hip, “just shut up and open it.”_

_Zach opened the tissue paper and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the flash of red fabric. “Dylan, did you -“ he cut himself off, not wanting to assume what Dylan meant with it._

_“Yeah,” Dylan said, his smile bigger than Zach had ever seen it, “I thought my boy should rep my colors.”_

_Zach felt his heart swell at “my boy,” and he leaned over Dylan, laced the fingers on his free hand with Dylan’s, kissed him as deep as he could for it being 7:45 in the morning. Yeah, he’s Dylan’s boy alright._

\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//

It happens after their game against Ohio State. Zach scores and gets two helpers, and Dylan himself tallies 3 helpers. They have probably the most put together game of the season so far, and they should both be pretty happy with the way they played. But Zach feels something deep in his throat that he can’t name, but it isn’t the best feeling he’s ever had by a mile.

It’s the last week of classes before finals and they should go home and study, but Hymie got them invited to some party and that sounds better to him. Or, it would normally, but he dips out before they’ve even been there for 10 minutes, sends a sorry, not feeling very good, have fun be safe text to Dylan and heads back to their dorm.

He must fall asleep when he gets there without realizing it. He wakes up and feels like he can’t breathe. A quick look at his phone tells him it’s 12:34, and he notices he has quite a few missed calls and texts.

_**Auston** : sick goal tn bro_

_**Dyls** : babe r u ok???_

_4 missed calls from **Dyls**_

_**Dyls** : seariously can you answer me please zach_

_**Zach Hyman** : ur boyfriend is losing his mind lol_

_**Dyls** : dont listen to hymie_

He knows there’s more but at that point his world comes crashing down and he literally can’t breathe. He has the mindset to send Dylan a quick pls come home i need u text before he curls into a ball and starts hyperventilating.

He can’t focus on anything except the mistakes he made in the game earlier, the weird comment he made to a girl he liked in middle school, or the time he was caught cheating on his Algebra II test junior year. He thinks about the chances he’s forced to eat stuffing at some point in his life, or what it will be like when he doesn’t get to wake up next to Dylan anymore. He can’t hold it in anymore, and the dams in his eyes break loose everything he’s been holding in and he thinks he wails loudly which only makes him cry more because he feels so pathetic.

He reaches for something to wipe his face, and the first thing he can reach is, of course, the Red Wings shirt Dylan got him. Literally, of COURSE that’s what he grabbed. He feels his chest tighten, starts seeing white and feeling dizzy at the thought of Dylan. Dylan, the friend who always knew him best, the friend who is much more than a friend, the boy who he loves with his whole being. Dylan who, although they fuck and say “I love you,” he never really knows where they stand. Dylan who will blow his brains out but refuses to cuddle unless they’re sleeping. Dylan who bought him a god damn RED WINGS shirt. Because he wanted his boy to rep his colors. But like, what does that even MEAN?

Zach hears the door open as he’s wiping his eyes and hears a quiet holy shit come from Dylan. The door shuts, the lights turn on, and Dylan is on the bed next to Zach. “Hey, shh, it’s okay,” Dylan coos at him, pulling Zach into his lap.

“I’m sorry, Dyl,” Zach cries into his shoulder. He sits there, Dylan’s arms wrapped around him, sobbing into his shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

Dylan wipes away the tears under Zach’s eyes and rubs soothing circles into Zach’s lower back. “What do you have to be sorry for? You’re absolutely perfect,” he says, one hand moving to rub the nape of Zach’s neck.

“I’m not, I’m really not, you are, I can’t believe this is happening, I’m so sorry, Dylan,” Zach rushes out, not even sure if Dylan can hear him. He remembers something from one of the Psych classes he actually paid attention to and sucks in a deep breath. One, two, three, four, five he counts in his head before exhaling. He hears Dylan mumble there you go, do another for me and repeats the process more times than he cares to count.

“See? There you go,” Dylan says and kisses his forehead, still rubbing his back. “I got you, Z don’t worry.”

Zach’s heartbeat drops back to a normal level and he finally opens his eyes and looks at Dylan. He can see some worry in his eyes and he feels bad that he scared Dylan like this, but at the same time he feels so, like, hashtag blessed that his boy saved him from himself.

“I never pegged you as a panic attack kinda boy, Zachary,” Dylan says, and Zach can tell Dylan is searching in his eyes for every sign that he’s okay. “You scared me for a second. What happened?”

Zach kind of chuckles, if it can even be considered that, and grabs Dylan’s left hand with his own, tracing circles on his palm. “I’m not sure. I felt fine after the game, and then as soon as we got to the party my chest felt heavy and I had a hard time breathing. When I got back here all hell broke loose. All I could think about was every mistake I’ve ever made in my life. And then I started thinking about what life will be like when it’s not you and me against the world anymore, and then I couldn’t breathe.”“Hey, why would you ever worry about that?” Dylan asks and pulls Zach closer to him. Zach would almost label this cuddling, and he feels his heart grow 8 sizes at the thought. “You’re going to get drafted by the Red Wings, and we’re going to be the most disgusting hockey couple the world has ever seen. Don’t ever think it’ll ever not be us against the world.”

Zach is much too tired to say or do anything but kiss Dylan, so that’s what he does. He kisses Dylan with all that he has, all that he is, all that he ever will be. He kisses Dylan in a way that says thank you for always sticking by me, and he hopes Dylan understands that. 

Dylan is it for him, and sometimes he thinks Dylan feels that way about him too, so he’s pretty confident that Dylan understood.

**IV.**

They lose to Minny in the Big Ten championship. Neither of them show up on the scoresheet save for 2 shots a piece. Two months to the date later, Dylan signed with the Red Wings.

Zach knew it was coming, he always knew that Dylan had bigger dreams than a losing college hockey team. They had spent the night before the announcement side by side on the hood of Dylan’s car, on some hill overlooking Detroit. 

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” Dylan asked, already laughing at the memory.

And, yeah. Zach remembered. It was the night of Zach’s 16th birthday. Brad had gotten them a six pack of beer, and before they had each even finished 2 of their own, they were heaps of giggling messes on the floor. Zach was able to stop laughing finally and had been staring intently at Dylan’s lips before he had closed the space between them and kissed Dylan sloppily.

“Definitely not your finest work,” Dylan said and poked Zach in the side.

“Yeah, but here we are, what, two years later? And you’re still around,” Zach said and kissed the side of Dylan’s mouth for emphasis. 

“Yeah,” Dylan said. Zach felt Dylan tense up a little bit. “I’ll always be around, Z, even now.”

“Are we doing this here, then?” Zach said and forced a chuckle. “I figured you’d at least wine and dine me before you dump me.” Dylan rolled his eyes, and grabbed Zach’s face between his hands and forced Zach to stare back at him.

“Zachary David Alexander Efron Werenski,” Dylan said, biting back a laugh. “I am not dumping you. I am not leaving you except physically. It’s going to take more than a hundred thirty two and a half miles for that to happen. Yes, I googled it.” 

Zach felt his eyes start to well up. “Oh god here we go,” he said and wiped at his eyes. “I still can’t believe you know all of Zac Efron’s names and think it’s cute to call me them. I don’t know what I see in you.”

Dylan still has Zach’s face in his hands, which is pretty convenient considering all Zach wants to do is kiss him. So he does. It’s not rough or laced with intent, just enough to buy him some time to gain his footing again. “You see a great smile, passable sex, a great companion, that I am the actual moon, GREAT back rubs and bedtime cuddles, like literally the best big spoon you’ve ever ha-“ Dylan says before Zach’s mouth cuts him off again.

“I actually am so glad that you’re leaving,” Zach says, pulling Dylan in for a hug. “Your ego is much too big for our tiny dorm room and it was starting to get uncomfortable.” Dylan pushes him away. 

“No, I think your huge ass was the problem, why the room felt to small,” Dylan said and walks towards the drivers door of his car. “Which, if I’m being honest, that’s the only thing I’m going to miss while I’m in Grand Rapids. You wanna head back?”

Zach follows suit and gets in the car, his hand automatically going to Dylan’s thigh. It’s been a nice year with them, but Zach can’t help but still feel confused as to what they are. They never used labels, they never really talked about feelings, they especially never said I love you, even though whenever Dylan woke up first and brought him a bagel from the cafeteria he definitely felt it.

He must have zoned out for the rest of the drive. “You’re thinking again, Z,” Dylan said as they pulled into his parents driveway. Zach faintly hears what he thinks is One Direction on the radio, and can’t figure out why Dylan is feeding into him and the music taste he constantly gets chirped for, but he also thinks it’s pretty obvious why Dylan would be trying to make him happy tonight.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs and talk before you have a panic attack. Everything is okay, I promise.” Dylan says to him and rests his arm on the small of Zach’s back as they’re walking into the building. Zach sucks in a deep breath, trying to stabilize himself, because it’s like….a lot that Dylan knows him and his brain so well.

They get upstairs and there’s another gift bag on Zach’s bed. He gives Dylan a look, noting that the bag this time is white with red tissue paper. “Dylan, you already gave me a Red Wings shirt, what is this?”

“You can open it later, we need to talk first,” Dylan says, pulling Zach down onto his bed to sit next to him. “What is going through your mind? Nothing is changing between us, except that you’ll have to cuddle yourself at night. I’m leaving but part of me will still be here with you. No matter where we are,” Zach is crying at this point, because of course he is, and Dylan is rubbing circles into his back, “no matter where we are, Z…you’ll always be my boy.”

Zach feels the weight of Dylan’s contract come crashing down on him, can’t help that he’s so upset. He feels pathetic, but knows Dylan wouldn’t be happy if he knew that, but he feels like part of him is leaving. Grand Rapids is only, like, two hours away or whatever, but this just feels like he’s being torn apart.

He can’t bring himself to talk, so he decides to lay down and pull Dylan with him. Zach’s bed at his parent’s house is a queen, so it’s much bigger and much more comfortable than the dorm bed they’re used to. Dylan is between him and the wall, his arm wrapped tightly around his stomach and Zach can feel his breath start to even out. “What did you mean by that?” He asks, his voice hushed.

“By what?” Dylan asks, his hand finding its way under Zach’s shirt and resting on his hip.

“When you said, you know….that I was your boy? Like, we’ve never used labels or anything and I just…I never knew where we stood? I’m sorry, this is so weird, forget I asked,” Zach says and moves to get out of bed.

Dylan doesn’t let him get very far, and next thing Zach knows he’s laying down, facing Dylan this time. “First of all, you don’t get to walk away from me. I get that you’re sad but we’re in this together. Second of all, if you want to know if I ‘meant it’…please open the gift bag.”

Zach is really confused, but accepts the bag when Dylan hands it to him. He pulls the paper out of the bag and can tell that it’s a shirt. “Oh boy, another Red Wings shirt!” He deadpans, but smiles at Dylan all the same.

“Yeah, why don’t you look at the shirt?” Dylan says with a smirk that Zach wants to kiss off his face, so he does just that. “Yeah yeah yeah we can do more of that in a bit, just look at the shirt, please, Z.”

Zach takes the shirt out of the tissue paper and opens the shirt. It’s a pretty neat shirt, he can’t lie. He unfolds it to hold up and show off to Dylan, when he sees it, and his breath catches in his throat. 

There, on the back, in big white block letters is LARKIN. “Dylan, what…?” He says, looking at Dylan and trying not to cry again. “What is this for?”

“It’s for you, obviously,” Dylan says with a blush creeping onto his face. “Like you said, we’ve never really used labels, and that’s partially my fault because I always just figured you were on the same page as me, but like…I want you to be my boyfriend? Like, that’s what you’ve been to me this whole year, shit even before that, and I thought you could be like those WAGs you see on Instagram with the name of their, you know, boyfriends or husbands or whatever, on their shirts or whatever.”

“Dylan, stop playing games with me,” Zach says, his smile growing so big he can feel his cheeks strain a little bit. “Because you can’t take this back.”

“I mean, when the Wings draft you in a couple weeks you won’t really be a WAG anymore, but we’ll be the best NHL boyfriends outside of Dallas.”

Zach isn’t sure who kisses who first, or really what is going to happen after the announcement tomorrow, but he has his boy - his BOYFRIEND - and being here with Dylan right now is the only thing he cares about.

**V.**

The announcement comes and goes. Dylan had snuck out of his parents’ house that morning with a quick kiss and swipe under Zach’s eyes to wipe away the tears that had fallen. He made an executive decision that he wasn’t getting out of bed all day. He had Friends on in the background for noise but he wasn’t paying attention.

His phone pinged and he groaned but rolled over to reach for it. The group chat had been blowing up all morning, all the guys sending their congratulations to Dylan. Zach simply sent a thumbs up emoji, followed by the clapping emoji and a heart, and exited the thread. He immediately got a text from Niko, followed by one from Brad and another from his mom reminding him about the French toast on the counter for him.

_**Niko** : sorry man, do you wanna go down to dad’s place and get pizza?? My treat_  
_To **Niko** : it’s not a treat if you get it for free anyway lol_  
_**Niko** : free is free my guy_  
_To **Niko** : ya I guess. Let me shower first, 20 mins?_  
_**Niko** : see u soon chump_  
_**Niko** : I meant champ_

_**Brad** : there goes your boy lol_  
_To **Brad** : ya lol i’m happy for him_  
_**Brad** : it’ll b ok Z_

He stands in the bathroom with the water running for longer than he’d like to admit, phone in his hand, staring at a blank text to Dylan. He starts typing a few times, but deletes it all because he feels stupid. For the first time in two years, he knew where they stood; he knew Dylan felt the same way he did, at least for the most part; he knew that they were going to be okay, but regardless of it all he still felt lost.

He stood next to the shower and opened snapchat, clicked on Dylan’s name, and held his phone out. He didn’t know what to do with his face, so he decided to angle his phone down enough that his face wasn’t in the shot. He wasn’t satisfied with the way he looked, so he stepped out of his shorts and into the back of the shower facing away from the running water. He was half hard, thoughts of future video chats and snapchats and phone sex filling his mind. The water was hot, and it steamed up his camera just the right way. He bit his bottom lip, put his other hand on his dick, stroking himself slowly, angled the camera down and pressed the button to snap the photo.

He didn’t want to analyze it too much, knowing his anxiety would talk him out of sending it, but he thought he looked good so he threw on a “miss you already ❤” caption and hit send. He texted Dylan quickly to warn him about opening the picture in public, tossed his phone onto the counter and showered as quickly as he could, knowing Niko would be there soon.

When he checked his phone after he got out, he only had one notification and it made his breath catch in his throat.

_**DJL19** took a screenshot!_

\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\//

“Well you look better than I was anticipating,” Niko says when they get to The Jug. Zach shot him a look and walked inside without a word.

He picked a booth in the corner, hidden from everything, but Niko found him within seconds.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Niko said and set a water down in front of him. “I mean, like, I did mean something by it but I didn’t mean anything bad. We all know how close you guys are and we just thought you’d be a little worse for the wear.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Nicholas,” Zach said, looking anywhere but at Niko. “You don’t have to babysit me. I’ll be fine. I’m allowed to be sad that my boy- that my best friend left. I’m not, like, I don’t need to be babysat.”

Niko raised an eyebrow, but got up to get their food from the kitchen without saying anything. When he came back to the table, he set the pizza down just as his phone lit up with a notification. Zach wasn’t sure what the message said but there was no doubt about the LARKIN in bold letters above the message. He looked at Niko and deadpanned, “so this was his idea then?”

Niko laughed and shoved almost a whole slice of pizza in his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Zach looked at him incredulously. “Unbelievable.”

“Don’t worry, Z,” Niko said. “Your boy-best friend only had the best intentions. He just didn’t want you to be alone.” He took a big drink of his water before finishing with, “and he just needed a some help executing his plan.”

“His … plan? What plan?” Zach asked, looking around. “What is he doing. Niko this isn’t a game.”

At that exact moment, 3 things happened.

First, Zach got a text from Dylan.

**_Dyls_ ** _: Always_

Second, the jukebox behind them that he didn’t know was there started playing a familiar song.

_Any man of mine better be proud of me, even when I’m ugly, still better love me_

Third, he picked up his phone and called Dylan, singing under his breath until Dylan picked up already laughing. “You stupid fuck,” Zach said, holding his hand out to block the picture Niko was trying to take. He knew he looked ridiculous, but he was so gone for this boy. “I love you,” he says through his laughs, even though he’s beginning to think those words pale in comparison to what he actually feels.

 

**+1.**

 

They had come out in the group chat in July, and everyone was really supportive. Zach was too anxious to send the text himself, so Dylan went ahead and did it, complete with a threat to anyone who gave Zach shit when the season started up. Compher was the first to reply, saying “lol relax little guy” before continuing with “it’s about time, also Niko this means u owe me $60, u said they wouldn’t tell us until September.” Zach made a note to himself to punch Niko.

It’s September now, and the NHL preseason has begun. Zach and Dylan FaceTime most nights, even if it’s just for a few minutes to say good night. Zach was admittedly really nervous before Dylan’s camp started, not sure how often they would talk and worried they might grow apart. Now he’s more sure than ever about how much he loves Dylan.

A group of them decided to go to the preseason game against Pittsburgh. Zach sat in the box with Dylan’s parents and brother, and the rest of the boys sat somewhere in the nosebleeds, Dylan telling them they lost their box privileges as soon as they started betting on his love life. He was wearing the Red Wings shirt Dylan had given him the day they moved into the dorm, and if anybody asked, he was just supporting his buddy. Just buddies.

Dylan’s mom came over and stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders, calming him in a way he wasn’t aware he needed. “He’ll score one for you, honey, just give it time.”

Just a minute later, Murray gave up a rebound that bounced right to Dylan’s stick, Dylan kept it on his stick for a beat before ripping it into the back of the net. Dylan’s mom squeezed his shoulders as if to say ‘I told you so’ before stepping away to hug his dad. He may have imagined it, but Zach would swear to anyone that asked that Dylan looked up at the box and winked at him before celebrating with his teammates. 

His chest felt tight, so many emotions going through him as he watched the love of his life score 2 more goals, even if one didn’t count, effectively living out their childhood dreams. Dylan after the game was quoted saying “I don’t know what happened, I must have had a good luck charm in the building,” a twinkle in his eye as he said it.

Zach wasn’t sure about a lot of things, like when he himself would go pro, whether or not aliens are real, or how pop tarts are made. The one thing he knew for sure, though, was that no matter what, it was him and Dylan against the world. And that was all he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> i am @morganfrielly on tumblr and am also always down to cry about these boys


End file.
